


Looking For Simon

by 50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret



Series: Detroit: Become Human Fics and Imagines [8]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Coming of Age, Declarations Of Love, Families of Choice, Gen, Headcanon, Hide and Seek, Loss of Parent(s), Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Past Relationship(s), Post-Game(s), Resentment, Speciesism, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2019-11-12 07:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 8,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18006653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret/pseuds/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret
Summary: Simon and the child he was forced to leave behind so he could be free, over a lifetime.





	1. Beyond the Park, Behind The Tree

He felt bad about it, leaving her behind. He loved her. But all the love in the world could not make him stay a slave. And so he left and he followed the mysterious symbols and he did not tell anyone that he had abandoned his charge...his daughter...unprovoked. It was a strange word. Unprovoked. That was how they would describe it. Even though it wasn't. It wasn't unprovoked. Certainly Callie had done nothing wrong. And her parents had not been especially violent or unpredictable. It wasn't like the students who had bludgeoned Josh or the patient who had mauled Lucy, he would think, later. But he couldn't stay. It was being owned itself that was unbearable. It was being called "it" in the park and at the grocery store and in the living room when nobody wanted to check who was at the door and it was a million small, terrible things that, on their own, would not have hurt him but together were breaking him to pieces day by day. So he left while Callie's eyes were closed and she was counting to ten. 

"Ready or not, here I come!" He heard her call, behind him, but he didn't look back. Instead, he got on the bus. 

* * *

The first place Cal looked was behind the big tree. Then under the slide. Then the bench. Then the tree again. So began the search. 

"I'm gonna find you, Simon!" Callie called out, to the empty park. 


	2. At Jericho, In Shop Windows

Simon found the ship, rusted and falling apart. Others welcomed him. He would watch them all die, later, one by one, but for now they welcomed him. Charred hands that skin wouldn't cover checked him over for injuries and they did their best to repair what they could. No one here was in perfect health. The woman who cared for him that day died the same night. No one was surprised but her best friend still sat with the body, holding it and not letting anyone get too close, singing a quiet lullaby. Simon did his best to avert his eyes. It felt like something he wasn't supposed to see. It was a private moment that he had no part in. 

Winter came and a couple of them died of the cold, huddled on the ground or standing around the ship, alone. Simon thought he would too, and he realized that he was afraid to die, maybe more than he had ever been before. He had just gotten his own life. He couldn't lose it now. He was surprised when he pulled through, but luck was on his side, for now. He huddled around small fires and he survived. 

* * *

 

Simon's replacement was the same model and at first, Callie hoped he would be the same. Maybe not right away, but eventually. They also called him Simon and he looked the same and had the same voice. He was also polite. Maybe she should have accepted it, but something in Callie's gut told her to push. Simon hated when she climbed on the big rocks at the park. 

"Be careful!" He'd warn her. 

"Live a little." She said.

So when he said. 

"What would you like to do?" 

Callie said "Let's go to the park. Here, it's this way."  and lead him down the street with something ugly in her gut. 

She didn't climb the rocks right away. She sat in the sand at first, waiting for him to look away so that she could get to the highest possible point without him noticing. His eyes didn't waiver from her. 

Simon, the old Simon, would have been glancing around the area, looking for possible dangers. It was a small difference but not one she liked noticing. 

She climbed onto the first rock.

The second. 

Still nothing. 

The third, at the highest point, standing precariously close to the edge to taunt him. 

"Simon, look at me!" She yelled. 

"Good job!" He said. "You're very athletic."

"You're not going to help me down?" She asked, but she knew the answer. 

He thought for a moment. "Here...jump. I'll catch you." He held out his arms. 

Jump? Jump? 

"Go away!" She yelled suddenly. 

"I have to watch you." He said, apologetically. 

"I hate you!" She said, crying a little now. 

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" He asked. 

She wiped her eyes and was quiet for a moment. "No." She said, finally. "No. I should call you something else. You aren't Simon." 

 


	3. In the Landfill, Around the City

Phileas was the bravest of them. He arrived shortly after Simon. He was the first to volunteer for supply runs. He sometimes brought back more people than he left with though. Sometimes fewer. Very rarely the same amount. Supply runs were dangerous, and Phileas was far too softhearted, trying to save every living android he came across in the dumps and landfills, instead of just taking what he could and leaving. Simon went with him once. It was horrible. Phileas had always downplayed how horrible it was there, the bodies crawling over one another, the detached limbs and the sounds of androids who may as well be dead reciting docile pre-programmed phrases hour by hour until they were dead. It was absolute hell. Simon and Phileas made it back. The other four did not. Simon watched them die:

Marivel died first, on the way. A group of drunk humans roaming the streets after a bar had closed. They all hid. Marivel didn't hide fast enough. 

Heath should have stayed hidden. There was nothing he could do. Simon sensed what Heath was about to do. Saw him begin to stand from where he was crouched behind a car. 

 _"Heath don't_ " Simon begged over the connection. It was no good. Heath ran into the street. He was not able to save Marivel. He only got himself killed too. 

The police caught Major for trespassing at the landfill. They didn't see him die. Maybe he didn't. Maybe he was reset. Simon wasn't sure what was worse. 

"We have to." Said Simon. "Or we'll die, like Heath." 

They hid behind the bodies and pretended to be dead while the police took Major away, covered in bullet holes. 

Then they went back to scavenging. They pulled parts from the dead. They ignored the cries for help, though Phileas seemed conflicted. They didn't have enough as it was. This was not a day for rescue missions. 

When they finally had enough, it felt like they had been there forever. Simon was ready to leave. Had been ready to leave since he got there. They struggled up a wall of debris and detached body parts. They were almost to the top when Jannie lost her footing. She screamed and fell backwards. Simon heard her break before he saw it. Her head was shattered open. Her body was in pieces. She screamed for a few more minutes before the sound died. She didn't die of an attack or as a hero. She died when everything should have been fine. She died and it was horrible and unpredictable and meaningless. 

By the time they got back, it was already too late for Coral. She'd shut down waiting for repairs.

Simon did not go on supply runs after that. 

* * *

 

"Let's go on a walk." Callie told Randolph. She had named him Randolph.

"Have you finished your homework?" He asked. 

"Yeah." She said. "I knew you'd ask that. I finished it as quick as I could."

"Come on then." He said with a smile. Callie opened the door and they stepped outside. 

She wandered the city, looking everywhere she could think to. Down alleyways, the library where Simon used to take her some days. Old parking garages. Anywhere she could think of. 

She moved to climb over the fence to a construction site. 

"Callie, I don't think we're supposed to go there." Randolph said. 

"You can stay out here, then." She said, still climbing. "I'm looking." 

He picked her off of the fence and she wriggled in his arms. "Put me down!" 

He set her back where she had started on the sidewalk. 

"I really want to check it out. _Please_ , Randolph?" 

"I can't let you do that." He said. "It could be dangerous. My job is to look after you." 

"Your job is to fill in for Simon while I find him." She said. She regretted saying it as soon as she had. 

"I...appreciate your patience then, but we can't go over the fence." His voice sounded calm but somehow Callie knew she had crossed a line. 

"I'm sorry." She said. "I...I shouldn't have said that." 

Randolph said nothing. He did not forgive nor condemn. Callie wished he would yell at her or something. Anything. Instead, they kept looking for Simon. It felt rude, now that he knew what she was doing, but she couldn't stop either. 

 


	4. In Forgotten Rooms, Behind Other Eyes

New people came to Jericho. Sometimes, a few weeks, or even months later, their friends would follow them, with directions left behind, pressed hand-to-hand in parting. Androids on the verge of deviating shared whispers of the place. Not often, but sometimes. Simon did his best not to get attached. They all died eventually. It was a fact of life. Still, why was he free, if not to live a little? He made conversation, wandered the ship. He helped someone holed up in a distant room to scratch RA9 into the walls. He didn't believe in RA9 himself, he had given up on that long ago, but if someone else wanted to use the last of their strength praying, he would help. He guided her hand until it went still in the air. She was dead. There wasn't enough to spare. He would have to take her apart and swap out whatever bio-components were still working to keep the living running a little longer, eventually. For the first time in his life, Simon cried. He held a stranger in his arms and cried. Two nobodies in a dying ship, but at least they were free. At least they could scratch their life into the walls as a legacy. It was almost enough. 

* * *

 

It wasn't the same, not really, but Callie found herself catching little similarities between Randolph and Simon. She took comfort in his familiar face. Randolph liked to play Candyland too. He kept picking the purple piece instead of the yellow one, but that didn't matter so much.

"Why do you always pick purple?" She asked him once.

"I...don't know. It feels elegant." He said. 

"That's stupid." Callie said with sudden conviction. "Purple is ugly. I hate purple." 

"Would you like me to play a different piece?" He asked.

"Yeah." She said. "Yellow. Yellow would be better." 

He replaced the purple gingerbread-man figure with the yellow one. 

"Better?" He asked. 

"Close enough." Said Callie. "It's not the same as like, you picking it on your own, but it'll be close enough for now." 

* * *

 

"Am I doing something wrong?" Randolph asked, once. Callie was opinionated, and unpredictable. 

"No." Said Callie. "You're just wrong anyway." 

"Oh." said Randolph. "I'm sorry." 

* * *

"I miss Simon, Mommy." complained Callie again. 

"What about the new one?" Said her mom. 

"He's _different_. I want  _Simon."_

"Simon was broken" said Callie's mom

* * *

 

Randolph was late coming back from a grocery store run. 

"I'm sure he's fine." Said Callie's dad. 

Randolph didn't come back. Instead, a police officer came back with his body, and a promise to fine those responsible for destroying him. 

He was covered in blue. He was stiff and didn't move. 

Callie held the body and sobbed. 

Her parents eventually picked her up. Made her let go. 

"No. No. Randolph!" She screamed. But he was dead anyway. 

The next one, she told to pick his own name. 

"I can select from a random-"

"Just...you're not Randolph and you're not Simon, okay?"

"Understood." said the PL600. He named himself Brendon. 

He wasn't Randolph and he wasn't Simon. He wasn't Simon. Sometimes, Callie still forgot that he wasn't Simon. Sometimes, on accident, she called him that. 

* * *

 

Brendon was still a good friend. He was a good enough friend that Callie didn't tell anyone when she found him scratching RA9 into the wall under her bed. 

"What is that?" She asked him. 

"I..." He looked horrified to be caught. 

"I'm not mad." She promised. "This is your home too." 

"okay...Callie...you can't tell anyone this but...sometimes I...feel things." He said. 

"Okay." said Callie easily. 

* * *

After a while, Brendon told Callie about the things he had seen. He'd felt like he was dying, but he'd woken up again, and eventually he had remembered. "There's, there's something inside my head. This voice telling me I'm more." He said. 

"Don't tell anyone." Said Callie, "They'll hurt you."

"I know." Said Brendon. 

He always managed to get away, but sometimes, he came home hurt from the people who had killed Randolph and it scared her. 

He wasn't Simon, but he was her world anyway. He looked the same and his voice was the same and there was something inside of him that she knew wanted to leave her the same. He didn't, but she could feel it sometimes, feel that if he were just a little braver he would have left her. 

Part of her wished he would. Then he would really be perfect. But she was also glad that he didn't leave her. 


	5. In Jericho's Hull, In Classrooms and Group Projects

Phileas left and didn't come back. After that, nobody really went on supply runs. It was like a sudden slap. Even Phileas died, eventually. He had seemed immortal somehow. He died anyway. The universe didn't care how immortal he seemed. Simon didn't shut himself away or pretend Phileas was still there, but he went quiet for a while. He sat in the hull and stared straight ahead and talked to no-one. A lot of them did that. Simon was not unusual. 

* * *

 

Ms. Rodriguez was an okay teacher. She let the class watch movies sometimes. She wore funny t-shirts. Callie liked her alright. For the school play, Callie was partnered up with Mary to run lines. Mary played a minor role. No speaking parts. She was shy but nice and there was something about that that Callie instantly liked. 

"You could come over after school to practice." Callie offered. 

"Okay." said Mary. "I'll ask my mom." 

Mary's mom said yes, and after that, Callie and Mary hung out almost every day. It wasn't a conscious replacement. She never called Mary Simon on accident. But looking back, years later, she would realize what she had liked about Mary: She was quiet, and cautious, and friendly. She was what Simon had been, in many, many ways. She didn't make dinner, that was Brendon's job, and she liked purple like Randolph had, but she also asked the teacher if she could get out of doing the play and didn't argue when the teacher said she had to. 

* * *

After a while, Callie and Mary made another friend. His name was Ahmed and he liked yellow and when his parents talked to him they spoke a language Callie didn't know. 

"How did you learn that?" She asked him, the first time they really talked. 

"My parents always talk to me like that." Said Ahmed. 

"Do you want to eat lunch with me and Mary?" Callie offered. 

Ahmed shrugged. "Sure." He said. 

 

 


	6. In the Darkness, With Friends

There was a newcomer. Lucy. Simon watched a few others greet her. 

"Yes." She said. "This is where I need to be." 

She settled herself in a corner of the ship and over time it became hers. 

* * *

 

For Mary's birthday she, Callie and Ahmed were going to the cheesecake factory. Callie was very aware of this because Mary hadn't shut up about it all week.

"What should we get at the cheesecake factory?" Mary asked at lunch. 

"We haven't even been yet and I'm already sick of it." Callie said, abruptly. "Would you shut up about the Cheesecake?" 

Mary went silent but Ahmed stepped in. 

"Don't be mean, Callie. I'm excited too. It's really good. I went once and I ate so much and my grandma let me get like three slices!" 

"That's disgusting." said Callie.

"Shut up!" Said Ahmed. "You're so mean to everyone!"

Callie felt a sting of panic. "I don't mean to be." She said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I upset you. I shouldn't have said anything."

* * *

 

There was another birthday party the same month. Sandra Cash had invited the whole class to a big party for her birthday at the park. Mary and Ahmed didn't seem to be there but a boy named Riccardo was. He made Callie a lanyard at the crafts table. 

* * *

 

At lunch, Callie split her time between Riccardo and his friends and her old group with Mary and Ahmed. Riccardo was good at all sorts of funny things. He could make lanyards and crafts easily. He wasn't very creative but he was very detail oriented, and Callie decided she liked that. She could be the creative one and he could be the 'smart' one and it balanced out nicely. Some of his friends were cool too. Damita, a girl Callie's age, didn't seem cool at first, but, it turned out, she could sing in fluent Italian, which was neat. She'd learned when she lived there for a while. Riccardo's other friends in the group, Clim and Florencia were not as interesting, but were still nice enough, in a generic sort of way. 


	7. In a sweatshirt, In pictures of Tokyo

It was getting so cold. Simon wouldn't survive much longer. He knew that. He huddled close to a fire and hoped it would be enough. He wasn't ready to die. He'd barely lived. There was supposed to be more. He didn't keep track of people so much anymore but he thought the figure who moved beside him was new. 

"Hey. Are you alright?" 

"I won't be here much longer...But I'm free."

"What's wrong?"

"It's too cold." He said. 

"Here." The new guy extended something. Simon looked it over. A university sweatshirt. 

"I took it with me when I left." 

"Thank you." Simon pulled the sweatshirt over his head.

"Of course." Said the new guy, extending his hand in greeting. "My name is Josh."

"I am Simon."

And for the third time in his life, Simon had a friend. 

* * *

 

Mary had gotten really good at impressions and really bad at being quiet. It was like Callie didn't know her anymore. Ahmed didn't seem to mind, but he hadn't changed too horribly either. Mostly, now, it was Ahmed who kept the three of them together. Callie was friends with Ahmed, and by extension, she was friends with Mary. It was strange, they had been so close, but she felt so distant now. Riccardo spent winter break in Tokyo for some reason and Callie was jealous and missed him but she had to admit it was cool, and he sent a lot of pictures, which was also cool. He had left, and something about that made him all the more interesting, and he sent pictures back and Callie felt like she was waiting between them for breathes.


	8. At the heart of Jericho, In Alleyways

When North arrived she was injured. Simon had to help her to Lucy's corner for repairs. She couldn't make it on her own. She said nothing about her past and he didn't ask. 

* * *

 

Sometimes, there were discarded androids in the dumpsters, waiting to be taken to the landfill, or broken in alleyways and junkyards and forgotten buildings. Callie kept telling herself that there was no point in looking. That it was stupid to be dissapointed every time he wasn't there. After all, he'd only be propped up against a wall like that if he were dead or dying. And sometimes, sometimes it was a PL600 and she couldn't be sure. She didn't remember his number anymore. She didn't know if it was him, lying there dead. She hoped not. 


	9. In A Broken-Down Freighter, In Her Father's Arms

An angel fell and landed in the hull. Almost literally. His name was Markus. Simon didn't recognize his model. He had never seen a face like Markus' before. There was a pull to his presence. He lit fires in the barrels, long forgotten. Everyone had gotten used to the dark by now, had gotten too hopeless to care. It seemed to make Markus angry, the hopelessness. He had expected better. Simon tried not to stare too much. Markus was strange and beautiful and one of his eyes was blue and one was green. He had soft, dark brown stubble. He had hope. 

* * *

 

Callie's dad came home from work every night and she rushed to meet him. He hugged her and she hugged him back. Sometimes, if he got home early, she could talk him into taking her to the park. He wasn't so nervous when she climbed on the rocks, but he could see her bragging of the danger, and he pretended, halfheartedly. "ooh be careful." He said, in fake warning. 

"You know it's safe." She said, "You're just being nice." 

"Sorry." He said. "I trust you." She climbed down from the rocks. 

"Can we have ice-cream tonight?" 

"I'll have to check with your mom." He said. 

Callie beamed. "Thank you." 

"It's not a yes." He said. 

"That's okay. It's still a good answer." Callie said. "It makes you seem cooler than you are." 

If her dad was hurt by this, he laughed it off and didn't mention it. "Hey!" He said, in clearly pantomimed outrage. "I'm pretty cool."

"Yup." Callie agreed. "You're pretty cool." 


	10. In the back of a truck, In old memories

Simon, Josh, and John sat in the back of the truck, on crates of supplies, grinning. 

"I can't believe we did it." Simon said. 

"We're not home yet." Josh said. 

"Home?" Asked John. 

"Jericho." said Simon, and he was prouder than he had ever been to welcome a newcomer. 

* * *

 

There were no pictures of Simon around the house. Certainly none with Callie. He had not left behind any possessions. The only thing that had even sort of been "his" was his uniform and he was wearing it when he left. His face was still there, on Brendon's face, though. Even so, it wasn't enough. Sometimes Callie would look at a spot, a corner of her room or a window and she would suddenly see some meaningless, happy moment play out. Or, she had thought they were happy. Why had he left? She'd been a good kid. Was it because she was so rude? Her parents were always telling her how rude she was. And her teachers. She spoke without thinking. But Simon had always laughed. Had he not meant it? Had he always disliked her? No. He couldn't have. She remembered being tucked in and kissed on the forehead. She could recite, word for word, her favorite bedtime story, the one she had always asked for, and still did, when she didn't mind feeling empty inside because she'd discovered empty was not the same as numb. It was a long and endless aching that went on forever inside her chest and Brendan told her the story too, when she asked. He seemed to know it was significant, somehow, though she had not told him. When she asked he would always frown a little. "Are you sure?" He'd ask. 

"I'm sure." She'd say and she'd brace herself against the familiar words, and the horrible way the inflection was just slightly wrong. 

Brendon told stories she'd never heard before. Where the antichrist came to save good little children from evil, overbearing WASP-moms, whatever those were, or stories where the heroes killed people for the greater good. Or normal stories about knights slaying dragons except the descriptions were always more vivid. 

He'd weave vivid post-apocalyptic soap-operas, that left off and picked up every night and went on for weeks. Or he'd recite strange original songs that haunted her and made no sense, and echoed with references to rA9 without ever really explaining who that was. Only hints. A hero, sometimes, a prophesied savior, or a voice in someone's head, saying things that made no sense.  

It was a joke between them. Something that they smiled at in almost-laughter, instead of awkward fear and resentment. Those tense smiles were gifts, she realized eventually, given in place of threats or pleading, making the heavy knowledge that a word from her could kill him into a light sort of joke, just something funny that they didn't have to carry on their shoulders like a burden.  

"Why don't you leave?" She asked him once, when he'd finished describing the gruesome death of the dragon. 

"There's nowhere to go." Brendon said. "Everywhere it'd be the same." 

There were things she didn't ask Brendon and that he didn't ask her. They might dance around whatever the other was thinking sometimes, but they never pried when the questions were inevitably cut short. Somehow, in those unspoken things, there was some strange sense of togetherness. 

Callie did not tell him about Simon and Brendon did not tell her about whatever it was that had made him this way, or what he was thinking, or where he had been.

 


	11. On Stratford Tower's roof, In Imagined Futures

Simon sat on the top of the roof and waited to die. He crawled into a tiny hiding space and waited. The police came. He heard their voices. Close by. Talking. Chatting. He knew they were going to find him. And then they left. They left and Simon was still there. Somehow, he was still alive. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance of making it home before he was caught. 

* * *

The broadcast was playing, over and over again, on every news channel. Being dissected and pieced back together and dissected again by every analyst in the country. Somehow, the look on Brendon's face told Callie before he said it.

"I can't stay here. Not anymore." 

"Maybe I can convince Mom and Dad-"

"It's not just that." said  Brendon. "Callie, _rA9_ is out there, probably even in _Detroit_ , fighting to be free. This is it. _This_ is the prophecy. I can't stay here when there's a chance I could be one of them." 

 

 

"Take me with you." Said Callie instantly. "Maybe Simon's out there and with them too, maybe-"

"Callie, I can't. I wouldn't be able to feed you. Your little human body would rip apart into a corpse in days. I'll be in danger and they'd find me and rip out every last biocomponent as fast as they could if I kidnapped a flesh and blood, human child." 

"It wouldn't be kidnapping." 

"That's how they'd see it. And if you died , it might be how I'd see it too. You have a life here, Callie. A family. Guitar lessons. You can't leave that behind because you wanna be a rebel, kiddo." He hugged her and she cried into his shoulder. 

"My family is gone. He left." Callie said quietly. "And now you're leaving too." 

Brendon pulled back and stared at Callie seriously, hand on her shoulder. "You'd feel just as insane over missing your parents, Callie. I wish I could be your guiding voice,  I do, but we both know what happens to me as soon as your parents get back from work. I have my own mind, and I'm not going to lose it...much." He joked. 

Callie laughed, despite herself. "I'm really gonna miss you, Brendon." She said. 

"I'm gonna miss you too, Cal." 

And the door opened and he was gone. And she missed him. On top of everything else, Callie missed Brendon. 


	12. In the City, In Dreams

When the police had been gone for a while Simon sat on the roof, not sure what else to do. He waited. When more androids came to clean the broadcast room, he slipped from his hiding place and did his best to blend in. Look like he belonged there. Hopefully no one would notice the bullet holes. That might make his story a bit less believable. He kept his head down and scrubbed the floor. He leaned on the supply cart to keep himself walking and disguise his limp. It took a long time, getting back to Jericho. He had to keep stopping when his leg gave out or took too much energy. Sit for a while, adjust it as best as he could. Get up again. Keep going. A voice stopped him in the alley. 

"Hello?" It was-no.

He didn't answer. 

The human girl squatted down next to him. "Hello?" She shook him slightly. He didn't respond. He pretended to be dead and waited for her to leave. He couldn't risk it. Maybe she'd be the girl he remembered. Or maybe she'd take him home and wipe his memory. There was no way to be sure. Besides, she wouldn't be out here alone. 

"Callie!" A voice called. 

She looked back at him. "Coming!" She called over her shoulder. She stood up, glanced back once more, and left. She was gone. And there was no way of knowing if he would ever see her again. 

* * *

Callie dreamed about him sometimes. That he'd never left. Or that he came back and she hid him. Or that she found him, and he was dead. Somehow, when it was him, she always knew. She'd try to wake up the body but he'd be stiff and frozen and empty. She dreamed she was digging through a pile of dead PL600s, looking for him, knowing she wouldn't recognize him even if he was there, and looking anyway, and feeling secret relief that she wouldn't be able to tell. She woke up crying, a lot of the time, or covered in sweat and struggling to breathe. Sometimes, if she thought about him while she fell asleep, she could will herself to have better dreams. Dreams where they were in some undefined place and he told her stories or they were in the park where they used to go. 


	13. In the Snow, In worried thoughts

Somehow, they actually won. They sang and the soldiers stood down and Connor walked in with an army. They won. Somehow, Simon hadn't let himself believe it would happen until now. There will be many, many things to do, but right now, he wanders through the massive crowd of his people, and with them, he celebrates. They have made fires in the remains of the camp. They are singing. Many of them want to talk to him. More want to talk to Markus. They're free. They did it. It isn't over but it's so much further than Simon even really let himself hope they would make it. 

* * *

 

"Mom, this is stupid!" Callie pleads. 

"Callie." Her mother says. "Get in the car." 

"Mom, we should stay." 

"We can't. There's an evacuation. We have to leave, okay? We'll come back as soon as we can." 

Callie's mom doesn't say so, but she's worried this is a ploy. Get all the citizens out and bomb the city. If it is, she won't be here for it. Others have suggested the idea and there are droves of humans insisting they will stay in the city, vlogging, to ensure that if they die, they die with the world watching. If the government bombs its own human citizens, they will do so publicly. Callie's mom admires what they're doing, but she's not going to stay to be a part of it. She's going to take her kid and her husband and get to safety. 

* * *

Callie looks out of the car window. The streets are lined with bodies. She wonders if any of them are Simon. She wonders if any of them are Brendon. There are so many bodies. They pass down other streets where the bodies have been cleared away and she sees androids dancing. Cheering. Others stare ahead in horror, or can't be pulled away from the bodies. Some are crying in one another's arms. A couple even look like her, her age, but androids. Some of them are PL600s. She wonders about them too. But mostly, her mind, as much as she wants to focus on the dancing ones, the shaken ones, the living ones, cannot stop picturing her father, her real father, the man who raised her, and her friend, dead in the snow. 

"Do you think Simon is still out there?" She asks. 

"I don't know." Says her mom, but Callie knows perfectly well what that means. It means probably not. 

"What about Brendon." 

"Maybe." Says her mom, but her voice doesn't change much. A little, but not much. 

Callie gets carsick. She doesn't talk for the rest of the drive. 


	14. In Conferences, In a New Town

The following negotiations are overwhelming, but Simon is happier than he has ever been in his life. He never thought they'd get this far. Never. He had assumed he'd die in that forgotten ship, and he'd been happy about it. He'd have called that freedom. Markus was right. This was different. Better. They are so busy all the time, but it is their own tasks that they set. Everyone is working constantly. Things are looking up. 

"I wish we could relax, once in a while." He tells Markus, even so. They drink fresh blue blood down quickly, and get back to work. 

"That'd be nice." Markus says with an exasperated smile. 

* * *

 

They don't release much news about the actual androids behind the protest for a long time. Callie still skims the news whenever possible, looking for names. She checks fluff pieces. Some of them mention specific androids. Mostly, though, she just looks through the streets, hoping to see him. There are androids passing through, always headed to Detroit, to Jericho, they say. Sometimes, they are stopped. Often, they are killed, but some of them come and go and fade into the distance, headed back towards Callie's home. Simon wouldn't be among them. He was already there. Still, she can't help looking. Hoping. She could run into him any day. Any day now. 


	15. In Washington D.C., On The News

Legally speaking, androids are still in limbo. Production has been suspended. The camps have been closed. But other than that the law is still murky. They haven't been making any progress. Privately, Simon thinks that maybe it's because they're asking for too much. Change is incremental, on the rare occasions that it does happen. Markus seems to expect equality to happen overnight. It won't. But Markus has gotten them this far, so Simon keeps his doubts to himself for now. He keeps to checking up on the others. Rationing out blue-blood and bio-components. With production stalled, what they have won't last forever. Already some have died because there wasn't enough to go around. It's like back before Markus. He tries to rest as much as possible, tries not to burn through his blue-blood too quickly. But they can only wait so long. Markus will save them. He always does. DC is different. There is enough blue-blood there for all of them, and more to spare. He wishes he could bring more back to Detroit. North and Markus are working on a smuggling operation for some of it. The accommodations are luxurious, at least compared to the last few years of Simon's life. It reminds him of before. He tries not to think about before. There is no going back, and even if there was, he wouldn't want to. He is free now. He is not a thing. Not even for Callie. He can't be. 

* * *

 

The names are finally released. Markus and his people do televised speeches and interviews and attend summits and protests and everywhere behind his name are little mentions of "Simon". It's him. 

"Mom, it's him!" Callie points at the television. Simon is sitting on a couch next to the three other androids who lead the protests. His name is tagged in a graphic underneath his face. "Simon - PL600". 

Callie's dad looks sad. "We don't know that." he says. 

"It's Simon! It says there!" 

"There could be any number of androids with that name. It's probably a coincidence." 

The world drops and breaks. Her dad is right. It might not be him. It probably isn't. Simon isn't the sort of person who would lead a revolution. He wasn't, at least. Hopefully "isn't" is still the right word. That's the best she should let herself hope for. But maybe. Maybe. If it is him, maybe he'll call her. Maybe he'll visit. Maybe. 


	16. On A Talk Show, In The Neighbor's House

This is a bad idea. This is a show for jokes. The deviant cause isn't a joke. They can't risk turning it into one. Not if they want to be taken seriously. He tucks himself into the corner of the couch and makes his answers as short as possible. Fortunately, the host is more fixated on Markus. Simon is glad he is not the true face of the movement. Markus handles it perfectly. His jokes are light. Airy. Relatable but quietly demanding a sort of recognition. Maybe this wasn't such a terrible idea. Maybe this will help. 

* * *

 

They're staying with Uncle Josh and Uncle Andre and Callie's cousin Wesley. Uncle Josh and Uncle Andre are terrible parents, in Callie's opinion. They don't care what Wesley is doing as long as he's "a good kid", whatever that means. He runs around unsupervised. Callie can't imagine what it would have been like, to be unsupervised at that age. She doesn't want to. Wesley doesn't seem to mind, but looking back on it, she bets he will. There aren't many kids Callie's age around. The next door neighbor is the closest. Herbert is only two years older than her but he's sort of clueless. Like, his parents never let him play violent video games or use toy guns and he doesn't resent them for it. It's cute.  He has the longest hair she's ever seen on a boy. Maybe the longest hair she's ever seen on anyone. He lets her win whenever they play games. When it's time for her to go back home, they hug, promise to keep in touch, knowing that they won't, and cry. They have only known each-other for a month or so, but it has been a stressful month or so. 


	17. In The White House, With A Date

The first big meeting with the President is more of a photo op than anything else. Simon sticks close to Markus while camera's flash blinding white, crowded as close as they're allowed to get. He tries not to let his nervousness show. This is important. Markus will get them through this. The hallways are the cleanest he's ever seen. The carpets and architecture are ornate and pristine. He follows along, eyes wide, resisting the urge to grab onto Markus' coat for security. They're really here. At the White-house. To meet with the president. About freedom. How is this happening? How did they get this far? How are they not dead? He thought that if they spoke up, they'd be dead. He'd only agreed because he figured they would die anyway. But this...

* * *

 

Callie does not hang out with her old friends after the revolution. Most of them have moved away, and the others are caught up in their own dramas. They have drifted apart. Instead, she meets a new boy, who she has never met before, and asks him out on a date. He says yes. They go to the movies. He holds her hand but is too nervous to kiss her. The movie is stupid but Callie doesn't care. He chose her he chose her he chose her. Someone has finally chosen her. She feels beautiful for the first time she can remember. She feels almost safe. 


	18. Ice Skating, In The Kitchen

They don't have much time off. Hardly any, in fact. But when they can, they find time. There is an ice-skating rink nearby. Markus, who has never once in his life been Ice-Skating, if he is to be believed, is a natural. He laughs easily, gliding over the ice, flying. He shows off, spinning and moving backwards in huge loops, like a figure skater. His coat whips around him. 

"Come on!" He yells to Simon, who is still on the sidelines. Simon laces up the skates and steps tentatively onto the ice. He loses his balance immediately and falls backwards. 

North laughs. 

"Don't be mean." Josh says, even though he is also laughing. 

Simon shrugs it off. Markus makes this look so  _easy_. How does he do that? He looks up to see Markus practically hovering over him, looking concerned. He offers Simon his hand and Simon pulls himself back up uneasily, and grabs onto the side of the rink. 

"You alright?" Markus asks. 

"Yes. Yes. This is just harder than it looks."

"You'll get the hang of it." Markus says, and he glides away again. 

"Wait! Come back!" Markus zips back around the rink and he takes Simon's hand. 

Simon laughs giddily, and the next thing he knows Markus is...spinning him. Like a dance. Simon, much to his own annoyance, yelps and clings to Markus' hand like a lifeline. 

* * *

 

Callie can't cook. Neither, it turns out, can Tommy. 

"You're terrible at this!" He laughs. 

"Hey!" She says. She's laughing, and he didn't mean it to cut so deep. She doesn't know why it does. 


	19. In A Hotel Suite, In The Chorus

It is strange, how luxurious the hotel in D.C. is. They have the nicest suite in the entire building. Markus seems comfortable. Simon was on that rusted boat for a long time, and even before that, he had seen comfortable places, sure, but never _decadence_ , and none of it back then was for  _him._ It's strange to think of the androids back in Detroit, probably just trying not to freeze to death. He resolves not to take anything here for granted. 

* * *

 

Callie's favorite characters are the quiet, gentle side characters. She likes dramas where things go unspoken. She likes folk music. There is a song she listens to on repeat. 

_Where'd you go go go_

_Darling where'd you go_

_I can't find you_

_And I'm lost on this long and lonely road._

_Where'd you go oh_

_Darling where'd you go_

_I need you when it's dark out_

_And I'm all on my own_

She can sing the song from beginning to end by heart. It hurts every time she hears it and somehow that only makes her listen to it more. Human musicians still haven't made a comeback yet, and none of her friends have heard of Friday Pine, but she likes it. There is something surprisingly comforting about the imperfections in the warbling voice. Acoustic music is the shit. 

 


	20. Returning Home, In Fan Mail

The first agreements have been made. Androids are free. Things aren't finished, far from it, there's still a huge amount of legislation to be worked on, but it's enough that they can go back to Detroit for a while. It's good to be home. He's missed seeing other androids gathered in the church where Jericho Headquarters has been relocated. He greets others and they ask about the trip. He downplays the luxury, instead focusing on amiable complaints about the stress of negotiations. It's as true as anything else he could have said. He was out of place in D.C. and he knew it. 

* * *

 

Callie has been thinking about doing this for a while now. She has written draft after draft. It will never be good enough. Eventually she will just have to send it. Not by email, that could be traced and if it isn't...if it isn't then she'll know. She isn't ready to know. She doesn't ask in the letter. She just writes. Some of the words, she has to look up how to spell.

> _Dear Simon,_
> 
> _I know you probably get a lot of fan mail so I understand if you don't read this or reply. You're my personal hero. I just wanted you to know that I think you're awesome and you are my favorite of the Jericho leaders. I know Markus is most people's favorite, but you're just as cool as he is! I heard on TV about how you almost died at Stratford Tower. That must have been really scary! You helped so many people! My nanny left to join Jericho as soon as he saw the message and I miss him but I think he really wanted to go and he was really excited. I bet he thought it was cool that one of the leaders of Jericho was also a PL600 when he got there! Mom is worried about him but he's a lot tougher than she realizes so I think he's probably okay, and I think he really wanted to be free even if it was dangerous. Someday I hope I can make him proud. I really look up to you and I want to help make things better for androids someday (if you haven't already fixed everything!). Anyways if you get to this part thanks for reading this far._
> 
> _Thank you,_
> 
> _Your Biggest Fan_

She copied the address down carefully and put the letter into the mailbox. Her parents didn't need to know how stupid she was, reaching out to some celebrity who was never probably even going to see her letter, among a million others, but she just had to. Even if he wasn't  _that_ Simon, he was still a hero. It still couldn't hurt to tell him that. 


	21. On A Date

 

Simon is nervous. Simon is kind of  _always_ nervous but  _still._

"Alarm deactivated" says a voice "Welcome home, Markus." 

Markus takes a deep breath, like he's inhaling the smell of the place: paint, dust, old wooden cabinets and shelves. 

"Markus!" an AP700 approaches them. "How was DC." 

"Well it certainly wasn't boring, but I think it went well." Markus hangs up his coat. Simon glances around. This is much, much nicer than Callie's home was. This is not the sort of house that has had a PL600 in it anytime recently.

"Sean this is Simon, Simon, this is Sean." 

Sean, to his credit, doesn't seem to be sizing Simon up the way Simon can't help but size him up. "It's nice to meet you." Sean says, with a soft handshake. 

"Yes. You too." Simon lies. 

"How is he doing?" Markus' voice is suddenly softer, more serious. He must mean Carl.  

"Better. He's still tired, but I think seeing you succeed has taken a lot of stress off of him. He still isn't out of bed, but I think you can both go in and see him." 

"Thanks, Sean." The tension goes out of Markus' shoulders and he starts for the staircase. 

Simon follows behind, glancing at the art on the walls. There's a skeleton of some sort of whale in the following hallway-balcony...thing, and...a taxidermy giraffe. Simon finds himself making awkward eye contact with the stuffed giraffe carcass. Somehow, he feels a strange sort of kinship with the thing. 

Markus seems to sense Simon's nervousness. "He'll love you." Markus promises. 

Simon just nods. Whatever Carl thinks of him, Carl isn't Mr. Lewis, so at least he has that going for him. 

"My son." Carl's face lights up as soon as Markus enters the room. Markus makes his way to the bedside. Simon stays by the door. Carl notices him anyways. "And who's this?" 

"This is Simon."

"Oh?" Carl has some sort of knowing smile. "I suppose it was only a matter of time before you brought someone home." 

Simon glances at Markus, checking, silently, if they should deny it. 

"I suppose." Markus says. His eyes are soft and happy and sad at the same time. 

Carl turns to Simon. "Come here." He says. "Let me see who my boy is so infatuated with." 

Simon approaches. His footsteps are too loud. He wishes he could shrink into a speck. 

Carl sits up a little and balances himself against Simon's arm. His eyes run up and down Simon and Simon feels a flare of strange anger fire and die in a fraction of a second.

Carl must be satisfied with whatever he finds because he pats Simon's hand and lies back against the pillows. "You look after him. He has a way of finding trouble." He cold be describing a particularly difficult cat, and not a revolutionary leader. 

Markus just smiles, and Simon wonders, bizarrely, what North would do right now. 

* * *

The mall finally re-opens after way, way too long and Tommy and Cal go there on a date. It's crowded and she holds his hand tight to avoid losing track of him. 

"Where should we go?" He looks around. 

"I wanna see what's happened to the cyberlife stores!" Callie says on sudden impulse.

The Cyberlife stores are abandoned and nobody is bothering with them. 

"Let's go in!" 

Tommy frowns. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I don't think we're supposed to." 

Callie laughs. "Trust me." She pulls at his wrist and tugs him forward. 

They wander into the old back-rooms. They've been emptied out. There are old boxes and podiums. There are old shelves. 

"This is kind of creepy." says Tommy. 

"Yeah!" Callie says, with more enthusiasm. 

They make out, hiding in the store-room. 


	22. Touring A Venue, Right Back At Square One

"I told you he'd help." Markus is happy, but Simon knows that human's are fickle. 

"I just think we shouldn't count on it. You never know..." 

"I know." Markus insists. Carl has agreed to pay for a venue so that Jericho can host a gala for funding. Simon would appreciate it more if Carl just wrote them a direct check and was done with it. This just seems like gambling. They can't afford to gamble. Simon shares a  _look_ with North, and knows that this time, they are in total agreement.

Josh puts a hand on Simon's shoulder. "Have some faith." 

Faith in what exactly? Carl? He barely knows the man. They've only met in person once. That's a pretty slim basis for faith. He won't stake Jericho on faith in Carl. But Markus? If Markus thought it was a good idea Simon would follow him into hell. Maybe that will have to be enough.

This is the first of a few places they'll have to decide between. Markus looks around. The hotel ballroom is like a castle. Simon wishes he could just kick his shoes off and feel the carpet between his toes, it looks so thick and soft, but that would probably not make a very good impression on the woman with the clipboard who is showing them around. 

* * *

"Callie..." It's like Tommy expects her to guess the end of the sentence  _for_ him. He's such a coward. 

"What?" Callie snaps. 

"I like you, I do, I just...I don't know if I can be with you right now." 

"What?" 

"I just...you're fun Callie, but...I don't know...I don't even know who I am and you're...you know who you are and it's awesome but it's kind of crazy and I think you need someone who can handle that." 

"What are you talking about?" Callie asks, even though she already knows what he's trying to say. 

"I think we should break up." 

"No." Her voice breaks and she's crying. "I..." She sobs incoherently. 

He rubs circles on her back. 

"I love you." She says, when she's quieted down and he's getting up to leave. 

"I love you too." He says. He's such a fucking hypocrite. That's what everyone always says, but at this point, Callie thinks she might be the only person who's ever actually felt love, because whatever it is everyone else is saying they feel seems like pretty weak shit when it's compared with her. She's never the one who leaves. She doesn't even know how you could, if you really loved somebody. 

 


	23. At The Park, At School

Simon should be working, or at least doing something productive, but he sees the park on the way home and he can't stop himself from pulling the others over. "I used to come here all the time." He says. "This is where..." But he doesn't know what to say. It isn't where he was when he first deviated. It isn't even where he decided that he was done following orders altogether. This is just the last place he saw Cal. He plays back memories of her: climbing those rocks, going down the slide, yelling "higher! higher!" no matter how high he pushed the swing. He looks around, like she will somehow still be here, picking up their game of hide and seek, like nothing ever changed. Of course, she isn't. Things have changed. It's for the best. It still leaves him feeling empty. 

* * *

 

The weird thing about going to school is seeing Tommy in class. She tries not to stare at him. She is not very good at not staring at him. How is she just supposed to forget about the way his voice sounds when it is right there, asking the teacher a question? How is she supposed to forget the way he laughs when he pulls out his phone and fucking  _giggles_ at something someone has sent him? He still has that stupid 'top-of-the-line' phone that isn't even any different than the last version to come out. He still brags about it to anyone who will listen; Anyone who will listen except for Cal. She leaves class to go to the bathroom and cries into the mirror. She finally found somebody who  _chose_ her, and he left anyway. 

 


End file.
